


I'm a Natural Blue

by retroghosts



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Bisexual Sal Fisher, Coming of Age, Confessions, Crushes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, I'm a slut for found family yall, Lesbian Ashley Campbell, M/M, Slow Burn, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, band au, bc that deserves to be a tag, but not for long, its my story and i get to choose the lesbians, shhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24634810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retroghosts/pseuds/retroghosts
Summary: After Travis Phelps realized he had a crush on the one and only Sal Fisher, he resigned himself to staying far, far away. But after that plan blew up in his face, he started to realize maybe opening up wasn't so terrifying.Sal Fisher had always known something was up with Travis Phelps, and when his suspicions were confirmed he found himself looking for a way to help his former bully. Him and the gang had been trying to find a drummer for their new band and when Sal found Travis playing after school he thought he'd found the one. But things couldn't be that easy, could they?The story takes place in episode three, except they're all seniors and there's no demons or cult. Basically just a self-indulgent band au with a healthy dose of slow burn and found family!
Relationships: Ashley Campbell/Maple, Sal Fisher/Travis Phelps
Comments: 17
Kudos: 76





	1. We Need to Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy! Comments are super appreciated because they help keep me motivated to keep writing!! 
> 
> A lot of this story was originally inspired by the newest Waterparks album Fandom, but it's gradually expanded to be inspired by a lot of songs I love or ones I just find to be super fitting. All titles of the chapters will be named after said songs, and I highly recommend them! 
> 
> Also, this story will cover heavy topics such as abuse and homophobia, but I will not be describing either in detail. I will put trigger warnings before any possible triggering content too!

_ I know we don’t really know each other and you probably have your opinions of me. I thought maybe if I told you how I feel things could be different. The truth is, I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m crazy about you. I think you’re amazing! But I know these feelings I have are wrong. It’s not the way a boy should feel. Shame swallows me whole, just writing these words. My father would kill me, but I can’t live in his shadow forever. I just-  _

Travis grimaced as he scribbled over the last line, tearing the paper a little with the force. He felt the tears coming before they fell and he shook his head trying to force them back. What the hell was he doing? After all the years of keeping himself together through everything and  _ this  _ was his breaking point? 

He glanced around the cafeteria as he shielded the paper away from prying eyes. Thankfully, no one really paid attention to him when he wasn’t causing a scene. Even his black eye didn’t warrant a second glance anymore. Still, his heart was racing. It didn’t help that the subject of his internal conflict was sitting just a few tables away. The lower half of his mask was lifted so he could eat, and Travis could just make out a patch of angry red skin underneath. Contrasted with the blue of his hair the colors didn’t make sense together, like a painting the artist forgot to finish. 

Travis stood suddenly, bumping his leg into the hard wood of the table. He took his uneaten food- if you could call it that- to the trash and walked away, trying not to look at anyone as he felt his eyes fill up again. Damn it. 

He headed to the only place he can think of where he’d have some privacy. Making his way to the boy’s bathroom, he started to run as the bodies in the hallway emptied out. He rushed in and threw the note he was writing at the trash can, not looking back as he hurried into the stall. He couldn’t hold the tears back anymore, but now there was no point. There was no one there to judge him, to think him weak. Travis never wanted anyone to think of him as weak. 

Ever since he was old enough to understand that the way his father treated him wasn’t normal, he longed for the day he could prove that he wasn’t weak. To his father or himself or both, he wasn’t quite sure. He started lashing out around sophomore year in a desperate attempt to feel any sort of control. He hated school and he especially hated the teachers, any sort of authority really. He was in detention more days than not, but he never tried to hurt anyone. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. 

Then Sal showed up. He stood out like a sore thumb, from the freaky mask and bright blue pigtails to the way he acted, totally and completely unabashed. He was quiet, sure, but never seemed ashamed of himself or afraid of what anyone else said about him. He was an easy target for more than one bully, people too insecure to understand him, Travis included. But for Travis it wasn’t about that. He knew he wasn’t a good person, but he was self aware enough not to bully others for the sake of being mean. 

Sal just _ bothered _ him in a way he couldn’t explain. He couldn’t understand why his eyes always found Sal when he was in a room, why his skin crawled on the rare occasions he spoke up in class. Was he disgusted by him? He knew he should be, but it just didn’t sit right. He’d stay up late into the night sometimes just to try and piece together what he actually thought of Sal Fisher. He didn’t understand, or maybe he just didn’t want to. 

So he put up his defenses. If he was awful to Sal maybe he’d stay away from him. If he called him slurs maybe he’d report him and he’d have to move classes so he wouldn’t have to see him anymore. If he never had to see him maybe he could find some damn peace of mind. But Sal never reported him for it, and he made sure his friends didn’t either, which just angered Travis more. Did he want to be bullied? How sick was he? 

Every day he’d have to walk into math and see that stupid, emotionless mask. He’d have to hear that soft voice muffled behind it, watch as delicate fingers cuffed his red jeans that were slightly too big for him. Why couldn’t he just stop watching him? It was fucking frustrating. 

He only realized a week ago. He was laying in bed, wide awake, thinking about it all. He remembered a distant memory from elementary school, where he met another boy. Him and the boy became fast friends and Travis always wanted to be around him. He thought about how he would watch that boy all the time too, how he’d be mesmerized studying the way his freckles moved when he smiled. He thought about how he couldn’t stop staring at lunch that day when Sal took down his hair to redo his pigtails, combing through it with black-painted fingertips. He thought about it and then wished he didn't, because there wasn’t an off switch for his brain. Because he had already had the next thought, the one he had been avoiding for so long.

He had a crush on Sal Fisher. 

The thought filled him with warmth one minute, then cold dark dread the next. He couldn’t process it, didn’t want to think about what it all meant, but he couldn’t avoid it anymore. He wanted to lie in bed forever, or just die where he stood when he waited at the bus stop for school the next day. He didn’t hear a word of his lectures, and he got hit in the face with a dodgeball in P.E. By some miracle Sal wasn’t at school that day, but he still couldn’t get him out of his mind. 

By that afternoon he was furious. At God, at life, and whatever the hell decided of all people he was. . . whatever he was. Of all the billions of people in the world it had to have been him, like his life didn’t suck enough already. 

He tried to ignore it as much as he could. When Sal came back the next day he made it a point to not spare him a glance. He stopped spouting insults when he saw him in the hall and instead tried to lose his image in the crowd. He started sitting in the cafeteria with his back to Sal’s table, and put in his headphones to drown out his laughter. 

And it worked well enough, until yesterday. Yesterday he had to stay behind in math to talk to Mrs. Packerton about his less than ideal test grade, and he wasn’t able to bolt out of there like the past few days. When she was finished lecturing him he made his way to the door only to find Sal right outside, talking with Ashley. He didn’t really understand what came over him then, maybe it was the frustration already built up from talking with Mrs. Packerton. Maybe it was because it was the first time he had really looked at Sal in a week, or maybe it was because when he looked at him it hurt. Maybe it was the realization that no matter what he did, what he felt wasn’t going away. 

So he punched him. It probably hurt Travis more than Sal really, his poor technique combined with the hard plastic mask, but that didn’t matter. He had hurt someone. He had hurt  _ Sal.  _ The disgust he felt with himself was echoed on the face of Ash. He felt guilt trying to put him in a chokehold as he saw Sal on the ground, not looking back up at him. He wanted Sal to stand up and fight him, hurt him so much worse, but he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. So Travis ran away. 

He laid awake last night the same way he did a week ago. His stomach ached like he was the one who was punched, and the tears in his eyes felt like fire as they fell. What hurt the worst though was the regret. He never wanted to hurt Sal, he never wanted Sal to hate him, even though he deserved it. He cared about Sal, he cared about him so much. He wanted to disappear. 

He was quiet today. He didn't look at Sal, didn't call him names, didn't cause him any more pain. He wanted to talk to him, he wanted to apologize, but that was more terrifying than never seeing Sal again. 

The idea came to him during lunch. Maybe he could write Sal an apology? He could leave it in his locker, and they'd never have to talk about it. No, that was cowardly and pitiful, and Sal deserved more than that. A confession then? There's no way that Sal would know that it was him, and maybe it would brighten up his day a little? 

When he did start writing though all of the emotions he had been shoving away came flooding back, and it was all just too much. So he ran away, yet again. 

He couldn’t be sure how long he was in that bathroom, resting his head on the cool stall wall and trying to calm his breathing, when he heard the door open. He tensed and tried to quiet himself, but there was no way the intruder hadn’t heard him. Hopefully whoever it was would just fuck off and leave him be, it’s not like whoever it was cared- 

“Anyone in there?” 

Fuck.

“No duh, fuckwad, buzz off!” He sniffed before he could catch himself. 

“Travis? Were you just . . . crying a second ago?” 

Double fuck. He knew that voice, of course he fucking did. Of course it had to be  _ him- _

“Sally Face? I- No! What the hell? Can’t a guy get some privacy?” 

There was a pause. He almost thought that Sal had left, he was so small Travis wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t make any noise on the way out. He felt himself relax, just a little, and the bruise on his eye throbbed. 

He jumped when Sal spoke again, the soft sound catching him off guard. “Why do you hate me so much?”

He felt himself getting defensive, like a small animal trapped in the dog catcher’s flashlight. “Because you and your friends are a bunch of homos! It’s sick! It’s not right! God will never love you, why should I?!” 

Travis bit his lip, hard. He tried not to think about how much he didn’t mean what he said. God, if only he did. Life would be so much easier, wouldn’t it? He could ride his bike past the church sign without a lump forming in his throat, he could walk around in his own house like he actually lived there. God, if he was really there, would love him. His father would-

“You know we all aren’t actually gay right? Well, except for Todd. Todd is super gay. But that’s part of who he is and I think that’s wonderful. He’s one of the kindest people I know. How could anyone hate Todd?” Sal questioned. 

Travis tried not to think about the disappointment that gripped his chest as he huffed in response. 

He heard a shuffle from the other side of the stall door, then his eyes caught the red of Sal’s skinny jeans as he crossed his legs on the floor, facing away from him. He could see Sal’s hands as he picked at his black nail polish. “Is your father pushing these beliefs onto you?” 

Travis’s hands clenched into fists. “Just because my dad is a preacher doesn’t mean he owns me! I’m my own person!” Didn’t he though? Was he his own person? He didn’t really think so. Even if he was his own person, he didn’t think he’d like to meet himself. 

“Yeah, but . . .” Sal sighed and paused, the nail polish picking abandoned in favor of tapping his foot. Was he nervous? Travis wouldn’t blame him. “You just seem so unhappy, man. Are you sure your dad isn’t putting too much pressure on you? It must be tough being the son of such an intense man.” 

He started to laugh, but bit it back quickly. “You have no idea what it’s like.”

Travis shifted so he was facing the toilet seat. If the stall door wasn’t there they’d be sitting back to back. The two of them sat there for a minute in silence. Travis realized he was no longer crying. 

“I’m sorry, man.” Sal said softly, barely audible behind the muffle of the mask. 

“Don’t feel sorry for me, Sally face. I don’t need your pity.” And that was true. He’d rather Sal feel anything other than pity for him. 

There was another pause, and he could tell Sal was thinking, contemplating. He wondered if he tried hard enough if he could read the other boy’s thoughts through the door. 

“We don’t have to be enemies, you know that right?” Sal sighs. “I think under all that anger there’s a good dude who’s afraid to be himself. If you ever need someone to talk to or if you need to get away from your dad for a while you can hang out with me.”

At that, the tears started to form again, and Travis tucked his knees to his chest. He should say nothing, he should refuse, he should tell him to leave him the fuck alone and never show his masked face again, he should-

“Why- Why are you being so nice to me?” It came out with a sob. 

Sal’s answer was simple and clear, loud enough for the mask not to hide. “I don’t think you’re a bad person Travis.” 

He wiped his face with his sleeve and leaned back, taking a deep breath. “You know, I don’t really hate you . . . or your friends.” 

“I didn’t really think so.” Sal almost sounded like he was smiling. 

“ I-I guess, well, I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole. You didn’t deserve that.”

“That means a lot to me, it really does. Thank you.” He heard more shuffling and watched as Sal got up from his place. Something pinged in his chest and he almost wanted to ask him to stay for a while. “And what I said about being here for you if you ever decide you want a friend, I meant that.”

“Don’t push your luck, Sally face. Okay, now scram so I can have some alone time. And uh . . .” 

“What?” He could almost see him tilt his head, like he always did when he’s curious. 

“Don’t tell anyone about this or you’re dead!” He shouted, before catching himself. “Er, I mean, Just don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

“I won’t, I promise.” And with that he heard the bathroom door close. 

… 

The rest of the school day was a fog of lectures that fell on deaf ears as Travis tried to process what happened. Did he dream it? He had to have dreamt it. Can you dream while you're awake?  _ Daydreaming, you fucking twat.  _ But daydreams had never felt so real before. 

He could still feel the cool tile of the bathroom floor, the smooth surface of the stall door on his blackened cheek. The soft murmur of the muffled voice on the other side. He could-

"Mr. Phelps!" a voice called out, and Travis jumped in his seat, making his classmates giggle. He looked up at his English teacher, Mr. Sanders, and blinked. 

"School's almost over son, try and pay attention for the last few minutes, alright bud?" His teacher smiled kindly and Travis nodded. English was the only subject he tended to do alright in and he'd learned teachers tended to be nicer to the 'smart' ones. Probably why Mr. Sanders was the only one who bothered with kindness towards him, and why Ms. Packerton was such a bitch to him, and why she loved Sal so-

_ Damn it. Couldn't he go two seconds without thinking about him?  _

At least his teacher's call out proved something; what happened in the bathroom was decidedly not a daydream, and Travis was fucked. 

His fingers started tapping out a rhythm on his shaking knees. As the minutes ticked past Travis didn't pay attention any more than before, instead watching the numbers on the clock as they moved and shifted when his eyes unfocused. When the bell rang he methodically packed up his stuff and started heading to the music room without really thinking.

When Travis was younger he enjoyed music well enough, but the church hymns and new age Christian music never really appealed to him. Then, after he started public school freshman year he discovered all kinds of music. He'd listen to the bands and songs other kids talked about using the private internet tab so he dad wouldn't see. He discovered his favorite kind of songs were ones with pounding drum solos that made your body shake with the echo. Of course, his father would never allow him to take drum lessons, but Youtube existed and he was able to convince the band teacher to allow him to use the school's drum set after school. It started out as a simple interest, something to occupy his thoughts and let his mind drift to avoid more unpleasant thoughts. But soon he realized it was something he really enjoyed, and four years later he still used the same drum set almost every day.

The worst was when summer came and he no longer had access to the music room. Most seniors would be excited about graduation around this time, but all Travis felt was the same dread that came every May. Last year he was able to buy his own drumsticks with some cash he'd saved, and so he practiced on whatever surface he could whenever his father went out somewhere. It wasn't the same but it got him by, and that was the plan he had for this summer too until he figured out what the hell he was gonna do next. 

Summer sucked for other reasons too, but he decided not to think about that. 

He let the heavy metal door close behind him as he stepped into the music room. The teacher was already gone and the lights were dim, the sunlight filtering through the small windows. He sighed, letting his shoulders relax and brow unclench as he placed his bag down and took out his headphones from the pocket. They were cheap ones, but the quality was fine and they had lasted him this long. He plugged them into his phone and put his drums playlist on shuffle for him to warm up. 

He knew he needed to think about what happened. What was he supposed to do now? He sort of got what he wanted, he guessed. But it shouldn’t have been so easy, it can’t just be that easy. What was worse, Sal hating him or . . . not hating him? He didn’t know.

Sally Face saw him cry. Well, not saw, but he was there. He witnessed Travis with his defenses down, and that was terrifying. But Sal seemed to understand. He was kind, and gentle, and he offered to be friends after everything Travis had put him through. God, how was he even real? 

Travis wasn’t stupid. He knew what he felt and he knew what he wanted, maybe what he needed, to do. But that was just too much to handle right now. 

So he played. 


	2. Group Chat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so much for the warm reception on the first chapter!! Your kudos and comments and bookmarks really help me feel motivated to write! I was on vacation for the past week so I haven't had much time to write, but I'm back now! Hope you enjoy!

_ What the actual fuck.  _

Sal leaned against the closed bathroom door and took a deep breath. Luckily there was no one else in the hallway, but when he checked the clock he realized they’d soon be full. He shook his head and tightened one of his pigtails as he started walking. There’d be time to process later. 

He began making the trek back to the cafeteria, but was caught by the bell halfway there. He caught a glimpse of Ash in the crowds that formed and, because she was the greatest friend in the universe, she brought him the backpack he had left in the cafeteria. He was slightly worried about his friends asking what he’d been up to, but they knew the noise in the lunchroom could bother him sometimes and he had a habit of wandering around the school until the period was over. They probably didn’t suspect anything. Ash and him fist-bumped as they passed each other, and he headed to his next class. 

Sal settled in his seat and sighed. Now that he had avoided being trampled in the halls like always, he could focus on what just happened. Where  _ the fuck  _ to even start though? 

The note. It had to have been Travis that wrote it, right? Unless there was some other conveniently possibly closeted dude in the school who decided to throw a confession in that specific trash can. But of all people,  _ Travis?  _

_ Oh my god, how cliche.  _ Ash would say, and Sal had to admit it would be pretty funny if it also wasn’t so tragic. 

He wondered absently who Travis could’ve been writing to. There were a few kids who also went to his dad’s church and they seemed to be the closest thing Travis had to friends. But the note said he didn’t know the person well? Sal shook his head.  _ Not really my business anyway.  _

And then there was their little talk. He felt bad putting Todd under the bus as the ‘only gay in the group’, but Ash’s mom worked for the school and his friend wasn’t ready for her to know in case it got around that she was a lesbian. And as for himself, he really didn’t feel like adding to the validity of Travis’s statement right then when he was emotional and volatile. Sal meant what he said about thinking Travis was good underneath it all, but that didn’t mean he trusted him to not punch his teeth in again just yet. 

He had to admit to himself, he didn’t always see the good in Travis or any of his bullies. After a while a person can start to lose faith in people, and Sal had more experiences than he could count in which his faith was tested. His friends were what brought it back. Meeting and becoming brothers with Larry and then getting close to Ash and Todd saved his life, in more ways than one.

So whenever Travis was a dick to any of them and Ash and Larry started planning to put him into an early grave, he always held them back. 

He couldn’t say he never suspected anything. A guy can only get into so many fights, and Travis always had too many bruises to all be explained away like that. Maybe the teachers would accept that, but it never quite clicked for Sal. Combined with the way he lashed out at everyone it wasn't hard to imagine he knew someone who didn't keep their emotions in check. 

Sal sighed and rested his head in his hand, mindlessly scribbling in his notebook with the other. As much as he wanted to help, he knew there wasn't much he could do now. He certainly didn't trust any adults to help, and his friends would tell him to stay away. Just because Travis didn't have anyone didn't mean he wanted to be close with him. Being close with the infamous Sally Face might even make his problems worse. 

He picked at his chipped nail polish and tried to pay attention to the lecture. The attempt didn't last long however, and he turned to take his song notebook out of his bag. 

Sal had been writing songs since he was little, and he had gotten at least marginally better over the years. It was Larry who inspired him to share the songs with other people, and after a few years of growing up together and many hours spent on guitar lessons they both started dreaming about being in a band one day. Once Ash and Todd got on board things started picking up for them, but they still weren't quite there yet. They still needed a name and a drummer, to start. They had hoped that the dream would have been farther along by now since the end of high school was around the corner, but they were making progress. Sal was hopeful, and it gave more purpose to the songs he would've kept to himself otherwise. 

Sometimes the lyrics he wrote were random, little tidbits of thought that would have just passed him by had he not had his notebook in hand. Other times they were more specific than he’d like to admit. He thought again about that note. What kind of person could inspire that much emotion and conflict from someone else? Much less someone they barely knew. He started writing before he fully made the choice to. 

…

Working on songs instead of paying attention in class may have been more fun and, in Sal’s opinion, more beneficial than whatever public school could teach him. At the same time, that didn’t mean that Todd wouldn’t have gotten on his ass if he let his grades slip. So, he ended up staying late studying at the library that afternoon. 

The library was dreary, with dust pale walls and harsh artificial light. The only windows were small ones close to the ceiling and the air felt more humid than anywhere else in the school. The heat made him suffocate under the mask and when the librarian closed the door to her office he quietly slipped it off. There was no one else there to see, most students hurrying out of school as soon as possible like normal people. He’d like to do the same, but between video games, music, and ghosts to distract him studying at home never really worked out. 

After suffering for an hour or so he decided to call it a day. He told Larry to pick him up around this time, but he knew his brother would probably lose track of time, so he took his own making his way outside. He wandered through the school, dropping by his locker and passing classrooms on the way out. He started to pull his earbuds out of his bag when he heard something else, coming from the music room. 

Curiously, Sal wandered over. The band didn’t practice after school in the spring and as far as he knew no other clubs used the space. But as he got closer he heard it clear as day: someone was drumming. 

He grinned as he rushed over. Their school was fairly small and Sal didn’t know anyone who was into drums or any sort of alternative music. Their small group of friends were the only sort of people Sal enjoyed being around. Not that music preference made a person who they were, but the general weirdness that their group embraced came with some musical biases. To put it simply, he had no idea who this could be. 

He approached the door with soft footsteps, although he assumed the person wouldn’t be able to hear him anyway. The doors outside the music room had small windows built in and he leaned in and took a peak. He saw a flash of blonde and drumsticks flying; the mysterious person had their head down, nodding in time to the beat. As he squinted and looked closer, the person sat up and- 

_ Travis? _

There he was, plain as day. He had headphones on and he was playing like there was nothing else in the world. Sal almost didn’t recognize him: his permanent scowl was gone and the lines on his face that always made him look like he was forty were smoothed out. His hair was messed up from his usual slicked back style and his shoulders were no longer tense. He looked . . .  _ cool.  _ Like, really cool. 

The song he was playing seemed really intense too, by how fast and hard he was playing. It certainly wasn’t church music as far as Sal could tell. He wanted to go in and ask what it was, but before he pushed the door in he stopped himself. Travis looked so at ease, and with everything he knew about him now this seemed like something sacred to him. Sal had never seen the other boy look so comfortable in his own skin. He wouldn’t want to go in and scare him away, from the drums or himself. 

He made himself step back and walk away, the rhythm Travis stopped playing a few seconds later repeating in his head. 

…

That song continued to be stuck in his head for the rest of the afternoon. As he layed in bed playing video games he found himself forgetting what just happened two seconds beforehand. His mind couldn’t quiet down, even if he knew the ideas he came up with were impulsive. 

Sal had many flaws, some of which his friends discounted. Others, though, they all were in complete agreement. His heart was too big for himself, and he was the type to do most anything to help others. This became a major problem when it became apparent ‘most anything’ meant sacrificing himself in some way for other people, even if they didn’t deserve it. He also got his hopes up more than the average depressed person would or should. This made it all the more harder when plans didn’t work out and he found himself more upset than ever. 

Overall, the biggest flaws he had were what fueled the plan he came up with, and he might just be fucked. 

Still, he had a good feeling about this. If it all worked out he’d be helping so many people! Him and his friends would finally be able to get their band off the ground, and Travis might-

Well, he really didn’t know what this would do to Travis. The boy was incredibly volatile, especially when he was feeling vulnerable. He might welcome the invasion with open arms; or, well, as open as Travis could get. Or he might blow up in Sal’s face and act like their conversation never happened. This might not be something Travis wanted at all, despite what he said earlier that day. But even if he didn’t want it, Sal could tell he needed it. 

He wasn’t sure why he felt so inclined to help his former(?) bully. He knew that despite what Sal thought of himself, the Travis he knew before didn’t deserve him. His friends had taught him his own self worth, and he wasn’t going to let that go to waste. But the Travis he saw today wasn’t the Travis he knew before. He wasn’t Travis at all really. He was a scared kid who didn’t have anywhere else to turn. Maybe Sal saw some of his old self in Travis. And if that was the case, maybe Travis could find his own worth in having people to confide in. 

So, he picked up his phone and texted the band group chat. 


	3. Stupid for You

The next week felt like Travis had fallen into some strange limbo world. He floated through the school day, not bothering anyone, and no one bothered him in return. It was weird not having any attention on him, even if the normal amount was negative. He had slipped into  obscurity, and as it turned out it wasn’t unpleasant. 

He continued his after school drum sessions and started playing daily. It was the only time where he didn’t zone out of everything going on, where he didn’t keep his emotions securely in check. It felt terrifying and freeing at the same time. He could breathe properly for once while he head banged, even if the pain in his bruised neck tried to prevent it. His bleach-damaged hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, and he thought for the millionth time about just shaving it all off. Still, it didn’t bother him as much while he was at his drum set. 

Playing was the only time he really processed his feelings. Maybe because his feelings always seemed too big or too much for him to handle; but when he was making so much noise they didn’t seem as loud. He found himself thinking about Sal and his offer more than he’d like to admit during his practices. Certainly it'd be nice to have a friend, of course it would. But of all people  _ Sal fucking Fisher?  _ God, it’s like he wanted to have a target on his back. Or better yet, it’s like he wanted to risk his feelings for the other boy to become any worse than they already were. 

The song Travis was listening to ended, and he dropped his sticks on the floor, putting his head in his hands. It was so much easier when he thought he hated Sal. It was so easy to be angry at him, to funnel all these complicated feelings into an insult, or a fist. Emotions were so fucking  _ hard,  _ especially ones he knew he shouldn’t have. He shouldn’t want to run his hands through soft blue hair, want to hold his hand and play with those long fingers with the chipped nail polish. 

He shook his head. Fuck it all. He pressed play on his phone, and kept playing. 

After a while he glanced outside through the windows and saw the light had slowly started to fade. He sighed and put his things into his bag and made his way to the door. The school was quiet, everyone having left already. Most of the teachers that may have stayed late to work were on the other side of the school, but by then they had left too. He was alone, and that was comforting to Travis. 

Or it was, until he saw a head of blue hair sitting outside the music room doors. 

Sal looked up at him as he exited the music room, having apparently heard the doors open through his headphones. He could hear the steady beat of drums and electric guitar stop suddenly as the other boy paused the sound, sliding the headphones off. As he did his mask shifted, revealing a patch of pale skin on his cheek. It was quickly fixed however as Sal stood up beside Travis, but as he faced him he could still see those blue eyes, squinted up in a smile. 

“Hey, Travis.” He said simply. 

Travis, still a little shell-shocked, didn’t answer immediately, clearing his throat to fill the silence. 

“Uh, hi.” He replied, glancing around the empty hallway. “What’re you doing here?”

Sal shrugged. “I stayed late to study. When I was walking out to leave I heard you practicing and wanted to say hello. I didn’t wanna interrupt you though, so I waited.” His eyes squinted in another smile. “I know how I get when I’m playing, and I didn’t wanna mess with your rhythm or anything."

Sal reached down and picked up his bag from the ground. He went to leave, motioning for Travis to walk with him, and the other boy followed.

The two boys walked for a few moments silently, and Travis fiddled with his hands as he grasped for something to say. Sal seemed cool with the silence however, so he didn’t break it. It was only as they exited through the heavy metal doors to the outside as Sal spoke up again. 

“What kind of music do you like?” He asked. 

Travis jumped a little at the sudden sound, and silently berated himself. 

“Um, a mix of things really. I mainly play along with punk and rock stuff, but I listen to some indie too. It depends on my mood really.” 

Sal nodded. “That makes sense, I’m sure the drum parts in those genres are probably more fun to play.” 

“Mhmm, I guess so.” Travis agreed, but then seeing Sal’s expectant look, continued. “ I think slower songs are fun too, but it’s a bit more of a challenge. And it takes up more of my focus.” 

Sal’s eyes squinted in a smile. “So, you like a challenge, huh?” 

The smaller boy laughed a little and Travis felt his face heat up. If only he was the one wearing a mask. 

“Heh, yeah, I guess.” They both reached the curb outside of the school, and he turned towards Sal as they stopped. “Do you drive?”

Sal laughed again. “Can’t. This old thing makes my depth perspective shit.” He replied, gesturing towards one of his eyes, which Travis noticed was a slightly different shade of blue than the other. 

“Oh.” He said stupidly before he caught himself. “That’s kinda- I, I mean, that’s pretty badass?”

“Oh, really?” Sal teased back, “I mean, I guess the laser gun built in is pretty useful, but I wouldn't say the eye itself is anything special.” 

Travis choked out a laugh unexpectedly, and the warmth in his cheeks expanded to the tips of his ears.

Seeming satisfied with himself, Sal shifted and gestured to the road. “Larry comes and picks me up usually, but he has his own busy schedule of fucking off that makes him fashionably late more often than not. Can’t complain much, though.” 

Travis nodded. He wanted to ask if Sal wanted some company while waiting but he was fairly certain Larry still hated his guts, and rightfully so. 

Sal seemed to have the same idea. “You could sit and wait with me if you wanted, Larry wouldn’t do anything if I told him to back off.” 

Travis shook his head. “I would, but better not to risk it, right?”

Sal nodded. As Travis tried to awkwardly figure out how to end the conversation, the smaller boy spoke up again.

“You know, if you ever wanna play with someone, I’d be down!” He said suddenly. “I mean, I know I mentioned it earlier, but I do play guitar, and my friends are pretty musically inclined too. We’ve kinda been laying out plans to start a band.” 

Travis stared wide-eyed back at Sal as his brain screeched to a halt. He was offering to hang out together? And play music? And _ hang out together?  _

Before he could really think about what he was saying, he replied. “Why?” 

It came out more accusatory than he had wanted, but Sal didn’t seem put off. In fact, he seemed prepared for an answer like that. 

“I meant what I said in the bathroom. I know that I might not be someone you want to hang around, and that’s okay. But I want to extend the offer either way.” 

He laughed a little and continued. “I’m not being totally selfless though, don’t worry. The band my friends and I wanna start still needs a drummer, and I assume you aren’t already playing with anyone?”

Travis shook his head. “I’m not, but I’m not really band material.” He wanted to speak up about the first part, about how Sal is the person he wanted to hang out with most, but he held back. 

Sal waved his hand dismissively. “I think I'll be the judge of that, if that’s something you’d be interested in?” 

Travis thought for a moment. There were always two sides of him when it came to Sal Fisher. The one that wanted to be around him as much as possible, the one that wanted to make up for everything he’d done to him, and the other that made his stomach churn at the thought. The one that filled him with self-loathing at any mushy feelings that came up. 

This situation should be a win-win, right? Getting to hang out with Sal, make amends with his friends, and have an opportunity to keep playing the drums. He should jump at the chance! But his paranoia kicked in. What would he tell his father? What excuse did he have to be out and about during the summer when God knows what hours of the night they practiced into. He couldn’t say yes, not yet. 

So, what he decided on was, “Can I think about it?” 

Of course Sal, because how much more wonderful could he possibly get, quickly agreed. He pulled out a sticky note from his backpack pocket and scribbled on it, handing it over to Travis. 

“We’ll probably see each other in school but just in case, here’s my number. You can text whenever you need, I’m usually up at all hours of the night anyway.”

Travis took the paper gingerly, staring down at his shoes. “Uh, thank you. For everything, I mean.” 

“Your welcome.” Sal, in lue of a normal wave, decided to bow dramatically as a goodbye gesture. “I pray thee finds thouest way hometh safely.” 

Travis smiles slightly. “I don’t think that’s how old english works.” 

“You can’t say it’s not how it works.” Sal winked and Travis felt a part of him swoon a little. 

“Whatever,” Travis picked up his own bag and turned towards the street. “See you later, Sally Face.” 

“Bye, Travis.” Sal waved. 

… 

It took approximately three days for Travis’s anxiety to give way to high hopes and daydreams. He held off from texting Sal in those couple days, but they still seemed to cross paths more and more. The smaller boy seemed to have lost all qualms about being friendly in front of others, waving in the halls and stopping by his locker in the morning or catching him after school to chat. Sal asked him about his favorite bands the next day, and the day after he had listened to them all and told him in depth about his favorite songs, many of which they shared. It was nerve-wracking and exhilarating all at once, and in no time at all it became something he looked forward to. Even still, he couldn’t help but notice that Sal’s friends were never to be found when they talked. 

Once he made his decision though, it didn’t bother him. He would accept Sal’s offer and apologize to his friends and hopefully, maybe, he could be a part of something good. 

He thought about texting him that night. His father was asleep and it was late enough to where there was no chance of being caught. He could delete the conversation and everything would be fine. But something in him made him wait until school the next day. Maybe he was being paranoid again. Or maybe he wanted to see Sal get excited like he did when he talked about music, to be excited about  _ him  _ in that way. 

His chest strained painfully and he quickly dismissed the thought. This entire thing was stupid, what was he thinking? There’s no reason to put himself in this place, he shouldn’t be indulging in these feelings like they’re  _ normal. _

He was still chastising himself when Sal, silent as a mouse, snuck up behind him at his locker. 

“Hey, Travis!” He said, and Travis jumped at the sound. 

“Holy shit, don’t sneak up on me like that.” he tried to glare down at him, but his eyes softened as he looked back at him. Sal had his hair up in the normal pigtails, but they were curled in shiny waves, and he had forgone his red skinny jeans for a pleated skirt under a long t-shirt that was adorably oversized on the smaller boy. 

Travis felt a lump in his throat. If this had been a few weeks ago he would have tormented Sal terribly for his fashion choices, lashing out because his image wouldn’t leave his head. His first instinct was still hate, but it wasn’t at Sal now. It was at himself, for the way he felt looking at him.

“Hello, earth to Trav?” Sal waved his hand in front of him and Travis blinked as he laughed.

“Sorry, been kinda zoned out. Didn’t sleep the best last night.” He mumbled. It was true, but it wasn’t nightmares or anxiety like normal, but excitement. 

Sal nodded. “Fair enough. At least you’ll have the weekend to catch up.” 

Travis closed his locker and leaned back against it. “Yeah, that’s true.” 

He watched as Sal glanced around them and realized they probably didn’t have much time before first period started. 

“Hey, so uh, before you go.” He cleared his throat. “About what you said before, about the band thing? I think I’d like that.” 

He watched as Sal’s eyes (eye?) lit up and he jumped up and exclaimed. “Dude! That’s amazing! It’s gonna be so cool, I can’t wait!” 

Sal moved towards him suddenly, and despite himself he flinched back. It wasn’t hard enough to hit himself on the lockers, but he saw Sal’s expression change into one of concern, as much as he could tell from behind the mask. 

“Sorry dude, I wasn’t thinking.” He looked at him, then at the crowd of people around them. “ Do you mind hugs? I’m a pretty affectionate person, but if you aren’t comfortable a high five would suffice.” 

Trying to keep his cool but still feeling like he was gaping at the smaller boy’s thoughtfulness, Travis swallowed. “I, uh, a hug is fine.” 

Sal nodded and moved towards him again, slower this time. He felt Sal’s arms wrap around his middle and it took him a second to think functionally enough to hug him back. It only lasted a few seconds at most before Sal pulled away, but Travis felt like he was on cloud nine for the rest of the day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!! I've had a rough time of it lately and life kinda sucks, but I'm getting better and writing helped me feel a bit better. Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!!


	4. Plum Island

The smell of weed that lingered around Larry’s room shouldn’t be nearly as comforting as it was, Sal thought to himself. He sat in a beanbag his step-brother had in the corner of his room as said metalhead and Ash were playing Super Smash Bros in front of the TV. Both of them were really competitive and sore losers, but no matter how nasty they fought they always made up after an hour or two, and then continued the cycle the next time they all hung out. Maple was sitting behind her girlfriend on Larry’s bed, quietly cheering her on in between the rivals’ bitter roasts and comebacks. Todd was fiddling on his phone across from Sal, probably texting his boyfriend who was busy with family stuff as the redhead had relaid to them. 

The atmosphere was light and happy, and Sal thought about how he always felt at home with his friends. They were like his family. His father cared for him and loved him, but he was always distant, especially after the incident. Lisa was great, but he had yet to form much of a relationship with her over the years. Maybe because he still saw her as Larry’s mom, or maybe he still held onto the memory of his own mother, or both. Either way, being with his friends gave him the freedom to care and be cared for in a way that wasn’t complicated. With the life he’d lived, anything simple was something to be cherished. 

Soon enough he heard the tell-tale sound of Larry’s groan as Ash let out a whoop of celebration. Larry grumbled as he tossed his controller away, and Ash punched his shoulder lightly in response. “Hey, no hard feelings big guy.” She laughed. 

Larry scoffed. “Whatever, I still don't trust that you didn’t have Todd sneak in here and hack my console.” 

“I would never use my skills to unfairly interfere with my friends’ friendly competition.” Todd interjected. 

“Yeah sure, like you would admit it.” Larry replied, but he was smiling, harsh feelings forgotten. 

Ash turned to Sal then, her eyes kind. “You alright, Sal? You’ve been pretty quiet.” 

And she was right; he was quiet naturally, but especially so when something was on his mind. 

It wasn’t that he was bothered by Travis accepting his invite, quite the opposite in fact. He was really happy to help him out and possibly give him a new outlet and new friends. But breaking the news to said friends was proving harder than expected. Sure, they’ll be ecstatic to have a party interested in playing drums for them, but he wasn’t sure if they’d even let Travis get through the door. He needed them to give Travis a chance.

Well, might as well get it over with. “ I might’ve found us a drummer.” 

The reaction was immediate. 

“Seriously dude? Nice!” 

“No way, who the hell is it??”

“I didn’t expect there would be anyone around here.”

Larry walked over and clapped Sal on the back. “How did you manage that little dude?”

Sal smiled and shrugged. “ I saw them playing in the music room at school the other day and asked if they were interested. I’m sure we’ll want them to try out and all but they’re pretty good from what I heard. “

“I’m glad to hear it, Sal.” Todd spoke up, adjusting his glasses. “Maybe you can invite them to practice tomorrow?” 

Sal nodded. “Yeah, I’ll let them know.”

He stood up and stretched, making a point to check the time on his phone. “It’s getting late and I still have homework left to do, I better head on up.” 

Everyone agreed and said their goodbyes as they all filed out of Larry’s room, and Sal took a deep breath. Thankfully they hadn’t realized he hadn’t given their mystery drummer’s identity, and though it wouldn’t make much difference in the long run it still bought the pair some time. Time to do what exactly, he still wasn’t sure. 

Once the heavy apartment door closed behind Sal his hands immediately found the clasps on his mask’s straps and unbuckled them quickly. He scratched at the rough skin underneath, thankful to not have the extra weight on his head anymore. He undid his pigtails as he walked to his room, stopping to pet Gizmo on his way, who was sitting on the couch watching the news. The soft curls he had styled fell around his face, and the soft texture was a welcome contrast. His stuff was already by the bed where he had dropped it off before heading to Larry’s and his guitar was resting on the wall beside the door. 

Sal quickly changed into simple sweatpants and a t-shirt and pulled out his notebook from his bag. He gently placed his guitar on the bed and settled himself there, opening the pen cap with his teeth as he turned to the page he was working on earlier. All he had so far was a couple snippets of lyrics, but he had been brainstorming a guitar melody on the way up and he wanted to try it out before it left his mind. 

Soon enough he checked his phone to find that it was 2 hours later and he had not, in fact, worked on any of his homework. However, he did have a prototype of a new song, as well as an unread text message. 

_ Hey, It’s Travis, I hope you don’t mind me reaching out but I wanted to ask if we’re still good for me to try out with the band, and when?  _

Sal smiled as he read and quickly typed out a reply. 

_ hey dude! no worries, i told the gang about you, we have a practice tomorrow night if you wanna come by? also you text like a fifty-year-old man lol _

A few minutes later and Sal’s phone buzzed with a response. 

_ Sorry, I don’t really text that often I guess. Did you tell them it was me? How did that go over? _

_ no i didn’t, i’m honestly still trying to think about how to bring it up. do you wanna come over to my place first so we can talk and kinda figure out our approach? hopefully that would make you feel more at ease?  _

The next response took a little longer, but it still came. 

_ Sure, what’s your address?  _

… 

Sal wasn’t sure what time it was when he woke up to knocking on the apartment’s front door. He sat up groggily at first, then shot up in a hurry as he realized who it was. 

“Just a minute!” He yelled out, already reaching for the glass eye on his nightstand. He placed it in gently, then reached for his prosthetic, buckling the straps in a hurry. As he walked towards his bedroom door he glanced at himself in the mirror. His hair was down and hung in a mess of tangled curls around his face, and he was still in the clothes he slept in. He shrugged it off. He didn’t think Travis would mind.

He passed by Gizmo sleeping soundly on the couch, and he smiled at the cat as he approached the front door. He looked through the peephole just to be sure and there was Travis, standing outside looking almost nervous. He took a breath and opened the door.

Travis jumped a bit as the door opened, almost like he didn’t expect Sal to actually answer. He cleared his throat, and Sal noticed his ears seemed to be strangely red. 

“Uh, hey.” The blond scratched at the back of his neck. 

Sal tilted his head and smiled. “Hey, Travis.” He moved a little to the side, letting Travis inside. “Come on in, dude.” 

Travis stepped inside and stood there, putting his hands in his pockets and taking them out again to wring them nervously. Sal watched as he looked around the small apartment and caught sight of Gizmo, who had just woken up and was stretching. Travis made his way over to him but looked back at Sal as if asking permission. 

“You can pet him, he’s a big goofball that wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Sal leaned over the couch and watched as Travis reached a hand out cautiously. Gizmo sniffed it, then leaned his head into his palm. Travis’ mouth opened a little in surprise, then a small smile made its way to his face. Sal looked at him, a little transfixed. He didn’t think he’d ever seen him smile. 

“What’s his name?” Travis asked softly. 

“It’s Gizmo.” Sal sat up and looked away. “We can hang out in my room if you want, I’ve got all my music stuff in there.” 

He saw Travis nod out of the corner of his eye and they made their way there. 

“What time is it by the way? I just woke up, if it wasn’t obvious.” Sal chuckled, walking over and scanning his closet. 

“Uh, just after three I think.” Travis hesitated, before sitting gently on the edge of Sal’s bed. “Stay up late?”

Sal shrugged. “Not on purpose. I get a lot of nightmares and shit.” 

Travis responded with a simple “Oh.” 

Sal pulled out a band tee and some jeans from his drawer, and sat up. “I’m gonna go change really quick. There’s drinks and food in the kitchen if you want, make yourself comfortable.” 

Sal walked into the bathroom, taking off his mask after he closed the door. It was hard to change with it on, and he still had to brush his teeth and clean his scars. 

It wasn’t a pretty sight when he looked in the mirror. The side of his face where he was missing his eye drooped, making his eyebags and duvets in his skin more prominent. There were angry red marks all over and purple and black pieces of skin that never quite healed. When he opened his mouth, a gash in his cheek revealed some teeth. Sal averted his eyes. He didn’t like mirrors much. 

After he was done he walked back into his room to find Travis fidgeting with one of Sal’s guitar picks. He looked up as Sal came in, but didn’t say anything until he came and sat beside him. 

“So, do you play guitar for the band?” Travis asked, handing back the pick almost guiltily. 

Sal waved him off. “A little bit, but I mostly sing. Larry’s more of a screamer than a singer and Ash is more comfortable on the bass. Todd claims that he sounds like Gizmo whenever he tries, so that leaves me.” 

Travis cleared his throat. “Gotcha. I’m, uh-”

“You’re surprised I can sing with this thing?” Sal gestured towards his mask. 

“ I- yeah, I guess so.” 

“When we practice I usually wear a cloth mask instead for comfort, but it doesn’t affect me really except for a bit of muffling. Lar says it looks badass, and Todd says it’ll give people something to recognize the band with whenever we actually play for people.” 

Travis nodded. “Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.” 

A silence fell for a beat before Travis coughed again. “So, do you know what they’ll want me to play?” 

“Oh yeah! Um, we used to do a lot of covers when we were first starting out, so there’s probably something you know that we do. We can talk to them later about it?”

Travis nods. Sal thought there would be another awkward silence, but then Travis spoke up again. 

“I- um,” He took a breath. “I don’t really know how to do this. Approach them, I mean.” 

Sal went to speak, but then paused and nodded at him to go on. Once Travis realized he was waiting for him to go on he sighed again. 

“I mean, it’s ridiculous! Am I supposed to go and just say ‘hey, sorry I was such a dick to you, let me join your band’? Why would they ever want me to join? I don’t even know why you’re doing this in the first place.” He dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t even know how to talk to you without being angry at you.” 

Sal sat there for a moment. He chewed on what was left of his lower lip. Here Travis was, his former bully, more vulnerable than he had ever seen the other boy. Sal paused, then reached out, slowly, and rested his hand on Travis’ arm. Travis froze, but didn’t move away or flinch. 

Sal took a breath. “It’s not ridiculous, and that’s exactly what you should do. It’s not about what you did before, but how you feel now and what you’re gonna do to be a better person. Yes, they’ll be angry and upset at first, but if you never give them the chance they’ll never see you for who you’re trying to be. And for what it’s worth, I’d consider this non-angry Travis talking to me.” Sal smiled and hoped it reached his eyes so he could see. 

Travis was quiet for a few moments before he sat back up. He looked at Sal, and gave him another one of those small smiles. 

“I’m a little angry, but mostly at myself.” He chuckled dryly. 

Sal patted his back gently. “We’ll work on that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's been a while! I've had a lot going lately with starting college, but I do still intend to finish this thing. Let me know in the comments if you have a song you think the gang should play, and if you have any potential band names! Thanks for reading!!


End file.
